


Out of it

by Dreamsparkle



Category: The Three Musketeers (2011)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamsparkle/pseuds/Dreamsparkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porthos and Aramis had already said goodbye but they had both seemed evermore reluctant to leave D'Artagnan behind. Athos believed they were caught under the boy's spell as well, although to a much lesser extent</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of it

Porthos and Aramis had already said goodbye but they had both seemed evermore reluctant to leave D'Artagnan behind. Athos believed they were caught under the boy's spell as well, although to a much lesser extent.

Athos could not blame them. D'Artagnan was so very beautiful, moulded like soft material on the sofa. His hair spilt all over his face in delicate waves, connecting dark eyelashes to a wine tinted mouth. He looked warm and sleep mussed and irresistible. 

Prompting thoughts that Athos felt guilty for. Thoughts that he hated D'Artagnan for making him have. He huffed, taking another drink. If only he actually could hate D'Artagnan, this would be so much easier. He glanced at the boy, his pale skin as perfectly unflawed as any woman's.

The innocence and good will that was the solid base of the boy's personality, so inherently foreign that Athos did not know what to do with it. He was afraid he would ruin it, yet half hoped he would have the chance.

As though realising he was being watched, D'Artagnan's eyes fluttered open to reveal that innocent blue. He looked around, becoming confused to find them alone.

"What happened to everybody?" 

"They have gone home, as should we." 

"Can I stay with you?" D'Artagnan asked. He seemed serious but Athos could not think why he would want to. He knew he was not the best company. Athos didn't reply, unsure of what to say.

D'Artagnan stood up stiffly. His eyes closing, to starve off dizziness. Athos saw him sway forwards anyway, the world tilting under his young friend's feet. He caught him as he started to fall.

D'Artagnan seemed surprised to be looking at Athos' shoulder all of a sudden. He turned to look upwards, Athos saw the dilated pupils and understood.

"You're still drunk. You really are a lightweight, aren't you?" Athos laughed. D'Artagnan smiled back. His mouth twisting in that sweet wry smirk he was good at.

"Hey, you need your own bed. You can't even stand."' Athos tried. He flushed as D'Artagnan fumbled with the material of his shirt trying to straighten himself up.

"I don't want my bed, Athos. Let me have yours. We can share?" d'Artagnan fell backwards. It was all Athos could do to guide him to land on the sofa and not bang his head. He huffed finding d'Artagnan was no longer conscious at any rate.

He pushed d 'Artagnan back into his comfortable position from before. He got a blanket wrapped around him, pressed a kiss to the boys temple.

He hated that d'Artagnan loved him like the others. He was a grouchy old man who deserved to rot. Yet to stay in these boys smiles he had to be better than that.

He leaned down again and pressed a swift kiss to the boys mouth. He would never be the legend the boy saw. But maybe he could pretend for awhile longer.


End file.
